Never Standing Still (The Never Duet #1)(63)

Finally, after forty-five minutes, someone’s voice came over the walkie and said they’d found him and were bringing him to the family center. It took another ten minutes for the door to open and my baby brother to walk through.

I ran to Marcus and wrapped him in a hug, crying inconsolably, caring not one bit how crazy I looked.

“Marcus, you scared me,” I cried.

“Kalli, don’t cry. That was awesome! I got to meet Lego Batman! He was super nice and gave me this hat.” He pulled away and pointed to his head where he did, indeed, have a new hat.

“Marcus, why did you wander off? You know better than that,” I scolded.

“I didn’t wander off. I told Riot I was just going to go see Batman for a minute.” He looked at Riot, his eyes confused. “I told you. I didn’t just leave.”

“Yeah, but buddy, I told you to wait until your sister got back. I asked you to stay with me.”

“Then what?” I asked, my voice cold and angry. “You just turned your back on him? You dismissed him? You can’t do that, Riot. You have to keep an eye on him, you have to make sure he stays with you.” I was yelling and I didn’t want to be. I didn’t want to be in the room or in that building or in that state. I wanted to leave.

“Come on, Marcus. Let’s go.”

“Kalli, I’m not ready to go. We haven’t even seen everything,” Marcus whined.

“Kal, we don’t have to leave. Let’s just calm down and take a breather,” Riot suggested.

“Calm down? You lost him, Riot.” My words and my tone must have communicated exactly how extremely angry I was because both Marcus and Riot stopped arguing with me and simply walked with me out of the building and back to the car.

Once it was unlocked I motioned for Marcus to climb in the backseat and I got in right behind him, needing space from Riot. I could tell he was biting his tongue, wanting to say something to me, but he was smart enough to know I didn’t want to listen to him at that moment.

The entire ride back to LA I stared out the window and wiped away single tears as scenarios played out in my mind, scenes in which Marcus wasn’t returned to me unscathed, or wasn’t found at all. In the back of my mind I knew I was being a little dramatic or unreasonable, but I couldn’t argue with the part of my brain that knew if I hadn’t left him with Riot, he would never have gone missing.

We arrived at Riot’s apartment and I quietly asked Marcus to pack up his bag.

Kalli, your flight isn’t even until tomorrow,” Riot pleaded quietly. “Please, you don’t have to leave.”

“I’m too angry to stay here right now. I just need some space.”

“I’m not ready to go!” Marcus complained.

“Come on, Marky. Don’t do this. I just need you to pack your bag.” I turned to Riot. “Can you call us a cab, please?”

“You won’t even let me take you to the airport?”

I shook my head and walked back to his bedroom, but I heard him following me. “Kal, please, you have to believe how sorry I am about Marcus. It was an honest mistake. He just disappeared.”

“An honest mistake?” My voice rose with my anger. “An honest mistake? Do you have any idea what could have happened to him, Riot? Any number of things could have happened, and I’m just lucky that someone found him while he was still safe and unhurt.”

“God, I know that. You don’t think I know that? I was just as freaked out as you were.” His hands swiped furiously through his hair, his agitation evident.

“No! You don’t get to pretend like you have even one tenth of the love for him that I do. I’ve been there for him his whole life. His whole life. You can’t crash into our lives and possibly care for him as much as I do after a few months. If it weren’t for you, he never would have gone missing to begin with. It’s your fault.”

I watched as my words hit him like an arrow slicing through the air, connecting with the red circle, splintering its target.

“It was an honest mistake,” he said, his voice a whispering ghost of what I was used to—empty and sad.

“Yeah, well,” I said as I threw my clothes into my bag. “It’s a mistake I never would have made. Coming here, obviously, was one though.” From the corner of my eye I saw his mouth open to say something, but then it closed and his head hung low.

There was one tiny part of me that immediately regretted saying those harsh words, but the majority of me felt justified and too angry to even consider it being out of line. When I was sure I’d packed all my stuff I sat on the couch with Marcus, waiting for our cab.

The cab came and honked, Marcus grumbled about having to leave, and Riot refused to let us carry our bags. I wouldn’t look at him as he took mine from my hand, anger still coursing through my veins. I climbed into the back of the cab, not giving him a second look. I did notice him hand a hundred-dollar bill to the driver to cover the ride, and the nastiest part of me thought it was the least he could do.

We managed to make it onto a flight that left at dusk, and as the plane climbed into the sky, I couldn’t help but feel I’d left something behind.





Chapter Eighteen


Fear of Being Left Behind


Three weeks passed and I hadn’t spoken a word to Riot. When we arrived home from our flight there were flowers waiting for me with an apology note, but I was still too angry to appreciate them. Not hearing from me, however, hadn’t deterred him in the slightest. Flowers arrived three times a week, always with a sweet note, begging me to forgive him, explaining he missed me, urging me to just call him.